Heartbeat
by S. Snowflake
Summary: On their way out of Oz, Elphie has some regrets about changing Fiyero into a scarecrow. What does her "brainless" love have to say about it, though? It's fluffy, it's Fiyeraba, and it's a sequel to the musical.


_Author's Note/Disclaimer: Hello again, world! Well, I've taken another crazy step and wrote my first Wicked fan fiction! I don't have much to say about the ideas except that I love Elphaba and Fiyero as a pairing and the idea of him being the scarecrow and the sacrifice he made for Elphaba. Also, this is going to be rather fluffy, so if you're not into fluff, then don't stick around. I don't own Elphaba, Fiyero, or Oz. The rights to them are spread out through several sources when you think about it. Enjoy!_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**Heartbeat**_

**-A Wicked Story**

The blanket flew up in the air, riding the arid night wind that carried it up toward the sky. The green skinned woman held it tight with her long, feeling fingers as she fanned out the dirt. It would be another night of sleeping under the stars with nothing but a few provisions, the clothes on her back, and her love at her side. They had been stealing a spare few things they would need to survive by night from Ozian homes on their run together, but nothing that would drag them down for their destination… wherever that was.

The scarecrow emerged from over a nearby dune, clumsily falling over and spilling straw out of the side of his shirt. He laughed heartily about it. She stood up abruptly and ran over to help him put himself back together.

"Oh, Fiyero, you have to be more careful," she said.

"Oh, hosh-posh, Elphaba," replied the scarecrow with a laugh. "It happens all the time."

"Exactly," she muttered firmly. "You can't just be falling apart everywhere. You could… you could…"

"I could what, Fae?" he asked, stuffing more straw back into the place it had been before with a blank look on his face.

Elphaba thought about it. What difference did it make to Fiyero if he was falling apart all the time? It obviously didn't hurt him. He didn't care at all either, but then, he never cared much about what happened to him anyway. He wouldn't be like this if he had cared more about how the Wizard's Gale Force was ready to kill him before Elphaba had cast the spell and transformed him into a scarecrow.

Elphaba finally chose to just kiss him and make him forget that she'd mentioned it. "You brainless fool," she muttered with a smile afterward.

He smiled back. "Ah, but don't forget, I've got a diploma now." He pulled out the Wizard's diploma and beamed proudly. "Not so brainless now, am I?"

Elphaba shook her head as they stood up together. "A dictator's diploma that means less than the straw in your head. Come on, Yero. Sit down by the fire. I'm feeling hungry, and we need to get some rest for tomorrow."

Fiyero nodded and followed her over to their campfire. Elphaba spooned out some of her lentil soup and slurped it directly from the ladle since they had no bowls to eat with. Fiyero watched her eat, a sad look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. You want some?" she asked, handing over the ladle and feeling selfish.

"Well, maybe a little," he replied and sipped the soup out of the ladle. Some of it leaked right into the straw and stained his shirt. "Ahh, much better," he muttered without realizing what had happened to the soup.

Elphaba tried to smile at him, but found that difficult to do. Another handicap. How could someone like Fiyero be happy no longer feeling human? The man whose body had been so fit from dancing through life and fighting off the evilest of evil in Oz had been reduced to rags and straw. And how did she feel about this? Where was the humanity in her now? The rush and desire? It was selfish, but such things had been tearing her apart as they traveled out of Oz. She tried to tell herself that they were happy, but she felt somewhere deep down that it was a lie.

Soon the sun set in the desert and the blue moon rose from beyond the mountains. The witch and the scarecrow lay side by side in the cool sandy earth, their fingers entwined. A parade of stars twinkled above them, and they counted them and tried to point out the constellations of old as well as their own discoveries.

"There. That one looks like a heart," Fiyero said, pointing up at the starry sky.

Elphaba bit her lip. "If you squint, maybe." She chuckled and rested her body against Fiyero's straw filled frame. The straw snapped and crinkled as she did so. She flinched and sat up at the sounds, thinking that it must have been causing him pain.

"Fae, what's the matter?" he asked, pulling a strand of her ebony hair out of her eyes. "Don't be afraid. Everything's fine."

"It really doesn't hurt?" she asked.

"What?"

"You know, when you have your straw taken out or pressed in. It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"Well, it's the spell you cast. I don't feel pain very much at all anymore."

Elphaba smirked, not understanding what Fiyero meant. "Very _much_? When exactly _do_ you feel pain?"

Fiyero shuddered. "Fire still burns and hurts more than anything. I hate the stuff."

Elphaba frowned and got a guilty look on her face. She remembered that she had thrown fire at Fiyero repeatedly while he was protecting that farm girl Dorothy. It was all part of the act by the end, but she hadn't known that it had caused him pain while she was doing it.

"So, that's the only thing you can feel, Yero?" she asked, still saddened.

He looked at her, noticing the pain in her emerald eyes. "What's this about, Elphaba? What are you trying to get at?"

Elphaba sighed, showing her underlying vulnerability. "It's just… I just want to know, has my spell changed you that much? I mean, you can't feel anything. Do you hate me for what I've done to you?"

Those words stabbed at Fiyero's heart like knives. "I could never hate you, Fae. And I'd take being a scarecrow to being the Force's mince meat any day."

"But is it worth it, love? Would you have been happier if you hadn't changed at all?"

Fiyero looked back at her. Elphaba always tried to act like she was invincible, but deep down she was just another person. She was strong in her beliefs, but she was limited. It made him feel needed, and he pulled her close in his straw arms, trying to make her feel the warmth welling up in his chest from her words and presence.

"Elphaba, the spell hardly changed me at all, really. When you think about it, the only thing that's different now is that I'm made of straw. It's still me." He placed his scarecrow hat on her head and she chuckled at his fun loving attitude. "-And I _can _feel good things, Fae. I feel you." He kissed the top of her head and muttered words in her ear. "You know, your skin is very dry from the journey, but it still smells like the coconut oil you always put on. It's heavenly, Elphaba."

She rested her head onto his shoulder of straw and rags and they lied down together. "Really, you can feel all that?"

"Oh, yes," he replied softly. "My heart's racing."

She sat up again. "Your heart? Fiyero, you're made of straw."

He smiled. "-But I do have a heart. I'll show you…" he reached into the side of his straw body and removed a small, red piece of patchwork. It had a stitch or two in the side, but it was most certainly in the shape of a simple heart. He handed it to Elphaba.

"Felt or flesh, it belongs to you."

Elphaba couldn't control her emotions any longer and kissed his lips. "This is going to be difficult, Yero. I, a witch, you a scarecrow." She handed him back the heart, where he placed it in his chest. "But at least we have each other."

"Yes," he whispered as she rested at his side. He pulled the blanket over them to keep warm. "-That's all we really need."

They both shut their eyes. Just as Fiyero was about to succumb to the power of sleep, Elphaba came closer to his face.

"Do you know what I hear?" she whispered in his ear.

"What?"

She placed a hand over Fiyero's heart, then pulled him close to her own chest. A singular, resounding thud was there between the two of them.

"A heartbeat."

**The End.**


End file.
